


Sabbat

by Wingstar102



Series: Circle [2]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Curious!Gibbs, Even More, Friendship, Gen, Mysterious!McGee, Paganism, Spiritual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 15:40:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wingstar102/pseuds/Wingstar102
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not all forms of Casting are just to ask the Divine for favors, as Gibbs finds out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sabbat

**Author's Note:**

> A caveat for the readers of this:
> 
> In regards to the spiritual practices of Tim's that you read here, I must stress that this is only how I view what his Pagan beliefs would be. This is not a set in stone way that _all_ Pagans, even myself, practice. Happy to answer any general questions that you have, but I am _not_ an authority on anyone's beliefs except my own. We Pagans are a very diverse bunch. With that in mind, enjoy!

~~~  
  
Jethro adjusted his stance slightly to more fully and comfortably lean against the house’s back, outer wall. Stood watching the light from the four large pillar candles flicker and the bright, heavy, full moon reflect off of his Agent and the tools laid carefully on the natural oak alter that he’d constructed just for Tim to use.  
  
He had watched the entire ritual, from the very start to the very finish, in absolute silence, not willing to break the simple and moving Casting even by accident. It was also calming, despite the oddly charged feeling in the air. The warm breeze continuously blowing through the unseasonably warm night was nice too, bringing the soft murmur of McGee’s voice to him easily and making Gibbs grin. It was the same Circle dismissal that he always used, despite the ritual being one that Gibbs had never seen before, right before he grounded the energy into the altar, finishing whatever bit of Casting was being done for the night.  
  
When Gibbs had first found Tim doing magick, he was willing to admit that he’d been highly skeptical. Really, it seemed like something only done in the movies! Or in the ancient tales of Gods and animal sacrifices and drunken orgies, not something a very practical, down-to-earth techno-geek would think worked. But the night he’d first found Tim at Rock Creek Park, and most especially the conversation they’d had later over dinner, had been enlightening. Talked about how the rituals focused Tim’s mind on the energy he used for spell work. How quantum theory helped the boundless natural power surrounding everything do what he wanted it to, even molding it into specific outcomes.  
  
Still had been dubious after that, but wanted to make sure his Agent could practice safely and so built a good sized, heavy oak altar out of natural deadwood that was placed in the back yard, which blew McGee’s mind. Told him that he expected McGee to come over anytime he needed to use it, and it was not up for discussion.  
  
Tim came often, more so than Gibbs originally anticipated, not that he would have been rude enough to tell McGee not to. The first few times, Gibbs had disappeared into the basement to give him his privacy, but always showed up before the end. Over the last few months though, he found himself staying longer and longer, until he was watching for the whole ritual. The younger man never protested once.  
  
Another thing that changed, besides his habit of observing, was his skepticism. Mostly, it was noticing the subtle parts of how Tim’s spell work their behalf influenced things. Like a seemingly perfect shot by a suspect only grazing one of his team or missing altogether. A break in a case that no one else would have made. Incidents of that nature, which Gibbs would usually put down to luck. But nobody was ever that lucky all the time. Now he knew why.  
  
Other things swayed his opinion too though. One instance, just as Tim was completing his ritual work for the evening, they’d gotten a call out. As he was telling him about it, Gibbs placed a hand against the hard wood of the altar. One brief bit of contact with the warm surface, which it shouldn’t have been at all considering it was deep winter at the time, shot an odd and energizing _something_ up his arm that had kept him happy and feeling great for days after. Or every time Tim was petitioning the Divine Source directly, he would carry away from the encounter an inner glow that wouldn’t fade for weeks.  
  
But, what convinced him that whatever his Agent was doing was real, was what happened only two months prior. A heavy rainstorm during a hard and brutally fast-moving murder case, Gibbs and Tony were coming back to the Yard with information to catch the psychopath when a speeder slid on the very slick road and crashed into their car. The wreck totaled the car and should have killed them both but, miraculously, with the exception of some scuffs and bruising, both he and Tony walked away from it unharmed. Quite a while later, after the suspect was apprehended, Tim had pulled him aside and showed him the contents of the small pouch from the first time Gibbs had found him in the park, asking if he could come and empower new ones.  
  
Clutched in McGee’s hand were the Gunnery Sergeant rank that was used for Gibbs’ talisman and the miniature NCIS badge that was used for Tony’s. Both were black as raven wings. They hadn’t been the night before. There were no doubts after that.  
  
While lost to his memories, Tim had packed up his tools and approached quietly, waiting. It took him a moment, but he finally broke free of his thoughts and motioned for Tim to come inside so they could eat. Whatever kind of energy he was using really took it out of him often, so Gibbs always made sure to feed him before he left. “What were you doing tonight? I tried to figure it out, but I’ve never seen you do that kind of ritual before,” he asked, knowing that he was only going to get a general explanation from McGee, instead of details. That was pretty much expected by this point. Once, when he’d asked and not been given what he thought was a complete answer, Tim had sat him down and told him that most Pagans would never give specifics of a working to anyone not participating because of the chance that an outsider’s negative view of magick might affect how the energy flowed. Like how too many roadblocks on a street would slow a car down or send it down the wrong path and might even stop it completely. Gibbs wasn’t upset about the general answers after that, respecting what Tim told him.  
  
“Just, ah, paying my respects to the Divine, Boss.” The fidgeting his Agent was doing, putting his case of tools on the kitchen table and straightening it unnecessarily, told that there was more to it. Raising an eyebrow, Gibbs waited. Then it clicked.  
  
“Worship, McGee?”  
  
“Yeah, Boss.” Tim hung his head, almost like he was ashamed of what he confessed.  
  
To say that Gibbs wasn’t surprised would be a lie. He was, a little. Especially considering he’d always been under the assumption, from what little Tim would tell him of the wildly varied beliefs of Pagans, that the Divine, by whatever name it was called, was more respected and honored than worshipped and adored. A partnership, if anything. “I didn’t know you could do that.”  
  
Glancing up shyly and a little uncertain, McGee nodded. “You can. I do, in fact. Everyday at some point.”  
  
“Considering how much we’ve been watched over and protected by the Powers That Be, saying thanks is the least we mere mortals can do.” Tilting his head to the side for a moment to think, he added, “I wouldn’t mind showing my thanks also if you don’t have a problem with it. Know that you’re, uh -” Gibbs only struggled to remember the word for a second before latching on to it, “solitary, so I don’t want you to think you have to let me.”  
  
Stunned, Tim nodded. “Sure, if you want. You can join me during the next Full Moon.” The curious silver eyebrow went up, and Tim answered. “It’s when I hear Them best.”  
  
“Them?”  
  
“Well, yeah, Boss.” When Gibbs just gave him a blank look, he sighed in mock despair then grinned. “Come on, I’ll explain the vast and varied ideas of the Divine over dinner. I’ll even buy.”  
  
As they were grabbing their jackets, Tim thought of something else that made him chuckle quietly. “You should be thankful that I don’t worship Them with the Great Rite.” Another blank and curious look flashed through blue eyes and Tim smiled bigger, “I’ll explain that too.”  
  
And really, Gibbs couldn’t wait.  
  
~~~  
  
End.


End file.
